


Kill Me Slowly as I Fall Asleep

by The_OTP_Fangirl



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Dark, Eventual Happy Ending, Forced Prostitution, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, If I'm feeling nice that is!, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Not as far in the future as you think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:30:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5696788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_OTP_Fangirl/pseuds/The_OTP_Fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love. Matthew asked for that when he was younger, just once. He never got it in the way he expected it, and never asked for it again.<br/>Broken, twisted and alone in a world where the unwanted are sold like animals, their bodies changed to become pets, Matthew never expected to find love in the form of an albino business man, one who finally lets him see the beauty in what he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He could hear her again, screaming. She would scream every day, most times more than once. It used to be at his father, but since he’d left, it’d been at his little brother, Matthew. Every day Alfred would watch the poor boy get slapped and beaten, sent to bed without dinner and withheld from an education because he looked like his father. The seven year old didn’t think it was fair, but what was he to speak a word against the snake eyed women they called mother?

Today seemed to be no exception to the normal, Alfred curled up on their sofa with his hands over his ears and only barely paying attention, blue eyes staring over his brother’s body.

It’d been months since the last time Alfred had seen his brother topless, and the sight scared him. Matthew’s ribs showed, barely healed welts on his back scarring because no-one ever treated them properly. His hair was matted and long, covering a face with hollowed eyes and cheekbones too obvious to be healthy.

“I don’t care if you were cold! You used the hot water in the house, and that’s forbidden!” their mother shrieked, her face furious and her hand already red from the force of the slap. “Alfred and I can use the water, but you have no right to!”

Alfred couldn’t tell anyone either. If he did, he would loose his home, be sent away from Mattie and would never see anyone he knew again, receiving a fate worse than what his brother was experiencing now. No, he had to stay at home and protect his brother as best as he could.

So he held his brother, cleaned up the cuts and bruises and snuck enough food to keep Matthew alive, plugging in headphones so he couldn’t hear the sobs every night and the grunts from the men in the basement, their only proper source of income.

That was all he could do… That, and watch his brother break apart and build together again time after time after time again.

* * *

 

"Get up." Alfred could hear his mother waking Matthew downstairs, the sharp tongue making him cringe. Their mother only spoke like that when she was really angry with Matthew, or about to do something. His child eyes were exhausted though, and Alfred slipped back into a doze, not hearing his family leave the house, and his mother place a note on his desk.

Matthew was gone for a week, and when he returned, Alfred had screamed and ran from what his little brother had become.

He'd wish he hadn't done that for years to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Eleven years later_ **

“Get up.”

Matthew didn’t stir, not until he felt the hard kick against his side and the whir of someone starting a tazer. Everyone got up when they heard those start, and Matthew was certainly no exception to the rule. The whirring sound was usually accompanied by waves of electricity shooting through one’s skin whilst their body spasmmed and they lost control of their bowels, and still they would be forced to get up and walk the moment the wave had passed. It wasn’t a nice situation to be in, and so most of them had the sense to wake before that happened.

With a soft sigh, Matthew sat up and ran a hand through his matted blond hair, finding knots within moments, especially around his horns. That always happened, the long hair getting twisted around the deerlike twigs protruding from his head.

There was a mirror in the cold, dark cell he lived in, dirty, grimy and cracked in places. It was a reminder to all of them what they were. Years had passed by, and still Matthew looked into the mirror to see a change, to try and see the boy he remembered looking at when he was actually wanted. Blue eyes, short hair and a stunning smile, with a body that was plump and healthy, and a mind that saw the good in everything. Matthew could see that boy still, but couldn’t remember what he was.

Slowly, Matthew rose and made his way over to the mirror, pulling his hair away from his face and trying to see himself with his blurry eyes. He had purple eyes and was so thin, it was as if his skin was stretched across his bones, straining to cover his entire build. Scars littered his body, some deep, others small and insignificant. His body was dirty and due for a bath, but Matthew had lost the chance for his last bath a month ago when he’d accidentally knocked over one of the guards. Matthew was naked, but there was nothing much down there to be seen anyways – the operation that had made him like this had ensured it. After all, the male pets had to be infertile, lest they tried to breed without permission. That operation could be fixed, the chip placed inside of him and preventing his body creating sperm could be removed, but owners rarely did that.

“Creature!” The guard’s voice caused Matthew to spin around, his head lowering instinctively and his body curling inwards with submission. “You’re being called for the bathroom. We have buyers coming.”

Those words normally meant bad things. From what Matthew could remember, his mother had asked for him to be turned into a creature of lore when he’d had the operation, and Matthew’s body had been styled after a wendigo’s. The only people who’d gone for his body were those not right in the head, those who wanted him for a couple of months and sent him away, body barely managing to heal and ill from the treatment he’d been given.

Every time they said buyers were coming, Matthew got hurt, badly.

He wasn’t allowed to complain though, and simply followed the guard through the corridors and to the grimy old shower block, where a few other people stood. There was a young girl, her eyes hollow and rabbit ears and a white tail damp with freezing water. She seemed to be going through her first sales – no-one that healthy was on their second or third, and she was too young to be at that stage either.

But talking wasn’t allowed, so Matthew slid into the shower beside her and waited for the freezing cold stream of water to shatter over his body whilst he listened to the girl’s panic about his body. She was probably afraid of becoming like him… They all were.

As the layers of grime dripped from his body, Matthew began to work out the knots in his hair, trying to remember the man who’d done it before when he was younger. If he remembered right, the man had been his Papa, and he used to sing to Matthew every night before bed. That was an awfully long time ago, and the boy Matthew had been was long gone, lost to the creature Matthew was now.

“That’s enough, you’re wasting water.” one of the guards snapped, jolting Matthew out of his memories. He was handed a towel, and the male hoped to god he was one of the first to use the showers, so that he wouldn’t end up with an already used towel dripping with water.

For once, fate seemed to be on Matthew’s side, as the towel was only lightly damp. For the courtesy of others who were to use the towel later, Matthew shook his body as much as he could, trying to get the worst of the water off before toweling off what was left. All of them did it, knowing how awful it felt to be among the last to have a shower and discover their towels to be wetter than their bodies.

After that, he was handed a ribbon with a number, designed to go around his scrawny neck and, if he was brought, provide buyers with the details on how to get their new pet. Matthew was then lead into a room with people of various ages, all eyes suddenly staring at him.

“You see, this one is a special one! His body may not look like much, but taming a wendigo takes a lot of power. So, who’s wanting to start the bidding?”

Silence.

That sign was never good, and all of them loathed that sound. It meant no dinner, and then a downgraded cell for failing to please the bidders. Matthew liked his big cell, prayed for the silence to step out of the room so someone could say something.

“Five thousand.” It was a measly price for pets, but no-one seemed surprised, especially when the hammer dropped with a bang.

However, Matthew knew what it meant. If someone was paying that little for him, he was only going to be a short term pet. With nervous eyes, he looked around the crowd, trying to spot his new owner amongst the many men who stood in the room. He couldn't see anyone, but someone was there... 


	3. Chapter 3

Gilbert Beilschmidt stared at the letter in his hands with a mixture of distain and curiosity. It’d invited him to an auction, swirling writing giving him the details and offering him refreshments if he turned up at a certain time. Honestly, the whole auction disgusted him, but Gilbert was at least polite… enough to accept.

He was part of a small, anonymous group of people who didn’t approve of the selling and transformation of unwanted humans, seeing the whole situation as unethical and cruel. So the group brought and saved a handful from every auction and paid for their treatments to be reversed; gave them an education and, finally, let them go into the world as people. Some people were lost cases, in which case the group had a healing shelter where they could live out their life in peace.

Here he was, standing in the crowded room and watching from the back. Two men had already been sold, one tall and muscular, reminding Gilbert of his brother, and the other small, quiet and timid. They’d both been fairly healthy though, and as much as Gilbert wanted to save the first person he saw, he knew he only had the money for one this time.

The third male stepped onto the stage, and Gilbert instantly felt sick. Sure, he’d seen some of the bad cases in the past, but this boy was skin and bone, his face low and twisted horns sticking out of his head. Matted blonde hair was still dripping wet, and scars coated his entire body, looking like they barely had the nutrition to actually heal properly! Gilbert watched in shock as the auctioneer called for bids, and no-one raised their voice. The boy’s reaction was strange. His head lifted and violet eyes filled with pure terror, like he knew something that nobody else knew. It was as if he knew exactly what was going to happen to himself after this auction if he wasn’t brought. Something told Gilbert that it wasn’t good at all.

“Five thousand!” Gilbert’s voice spoke before he’d even finished thinking, and there was another stunned silence whilst Gilbert watched the male’s face fall even more, scanning the crowd to find who his buyer was. No doubt, with someone in that state, he’d seen some pretty nasty things and was probably expecting more.

When the hammer dropped, Gilbert rose and left the auction room, trying to formulate a plan. Someone like that would need a lot of help and support, but the albino didn’t want to send him to a shelter. So he’d need to get friends in to help.

His hands were already grasping for his phone and dialing a number, knowing exactly who would be able to help with something like this – his business partner, Alfred.

_“Yo, what’s up Gil?”_ The familiar, happy-go-lucky American accent answered after the third ring, and Gilbert allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Alfred, I need your help. I’m at an auction, just got one who’s really not in a good state and-“

_“Crap dude, did you want me to arrange a place for him at the shelter?”_ Alfred, in his usual manner, cut across Gilbert’s words, causing a light groan of annoyance to slip out.

“Alfred, I don’t want this one to go to therapy. He seems like he could recover, with the right amount of care… But can you drop some food off at my place? And some meds and vitamins?”

_“Sure thing! I’ve got a meeting in like, an hour or so, and Lovi’s doing his thing again, but I’ll drop the stuff off after it. Just feed him whatever German stuff you’ve got in your fridge until then!”_

With a soft sigh, Gilbert hung up and started to walk over to the pickup area. Pets stood around in the small space, often huddling together. It was a sick, twisted image of livestock pens, even if that was what society considered most of them as.

Two bird girls were causing a racket, both identical to the exact shade of their wings. They seemed to be being split up by separate buyers, both with furious expressions on their faces. Gilbert couldn’t help but feel pity for all the parties, knowing that both girls would probably get a fairly firm beating for their behavior, and would never see each other again. His ‘purchase’ was standing in a corner, hunched over to make himself as insignificant as possible and with violet eyes trained firmly on the floor.

It didn’t take long for one of the workers to drag him over, allowing Gilbert to get a better look at him “You treat the poor kid awfully.” he pointed out firmly, shaking his head a little. “None of these wounds have been treated properly, and he’s malnourished. Severely malnourished.”

Most workers tended to take offence to that, and Gilbert always found satisfaction in watching them bristle, whilst knowing they couldn’t do a thing against a buyer.

“Sir, he’s a wendigo. Lore has them as skinny, so we’ve kept his body to be with what he is.”

Gilbert merely sniffed and turned, one hand placed on the male’s shoulder. He could feel the boy flinch under the touch, try to pull away for a moment before remembering himself and following behind what he thought was his master. Gilbert sighed softly, shaking his head a little before leading the boy out the waiting car.

It was obvious he dared not speak up, eyes looking around fleetingly at the world before falling back on Gilbert’s form. He didn’t move quickly, feet dragging along the ground.

“In the back.” Gilbert ordered simply, hating this part. He’d have to pretend he was like everyone else until they reached the safety of his apartment. Only then could Gilbert start treating this boy like a normal human being.

The journey was slow enough, the boy curling up so to not make a mess on the carpet, not even bothering to hide his dignity. ‘Pets’ weren’t supposed to have dignity, humanity had decided. Any of that was beaten away in any way possible, teaching the creatures that they were below it.

Not caring much for any of what humanity thought, Gilbert focused his eyes on the road and drove, the radio filling in the silence like usual.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes! It took me a while to plough anything out!
> 
> As a note, I am currently doing A levels, and as such, all fanfictions are on hiatus until I manage to regain control of what exactly life is. Thanks guys, and have a wonderful new year!

His master had a big enough house. Well, more than big enough. Matthew stared in awe, before mentally kicking himself and faintly groaning. Of course the building was huge – it was a massive apartment complex, and his owner probably had one of the cheaper ones.

With that in mind, his eyes practically bulged when they stepped onto the lift and he watched the albino press the button for ‘Penthouse’. They had a key too, and for the first time ever, Matthew allowed himself a crinkle of hope that maybe he wasn’t going to be thrown away after a couple of months.

It faded when they opened the front door and were greeted by a male sitting on the sofa, with brown hair and sharp hazel eyes taking in Matthew’s body. When he stood, Matthew took in the sight evenly, noting that the man held an arrogant air, jaw jutted out and tan cheeks puffed up. However, he was still lean, his features were quite defined, his hair messy and lazily cropped short, a singular, wayward curl standing up on one side like a waving pixie or something. This had to be his master’s lover. There was no way a man like this would let someone into his home and be so casual about it, that Matthew knew by heart.

“Shit, you really do look like you’ve been to hell and back,” he casually observed, his voice deep, raw like a volcano, and carrying that same arrogance through to his tone. His eyes glanced over Matthew’s body once more, before flicking up to his new master. “Al’s caught up in business for the next few days. He’s taken on your jobs so you can have a little fun with the pet.”

Matthew couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He wasn’t sure why – it was perfectly acceptable for someone to use their pets in any way they deemed fit – mainly for sex both private and public. However, what Matthew hadn’t expected was for his master to gain a little colour in his incredibly pale cheeks and look away.

“Besides, if you hurt him, Gilbert, I’ll rip your throat out,” the man snapped, opening the front door and stomping out with a dark glare.

As soon as they were alone again, Matthew’s master – Gilbert – quickly righted himself and nodded to Matthew. “Lovino. He’s an intimidating little shit at first, but he means well. What’s your name?”

Deciding that this Lovino wasn’t actually Gilbert’s lover, Matthew quickly scrambled to answer. “Y-you pick my name.” ‘Thing’, ‘Whore’ and ‘Creature’ were amongst most of the names Matthew had been given in his life, so he was expecting something like that.

“Oh, really? You must still be able to remember your first name, but for now we’ll call you Birdie. We’ll use your real name soon enough.”

Now that was certainly different. Matthew’s face must’ve shown his confusion, because his Master laughed and ruffled his hair in a loving way he hadn’t been touched with in years. “I guess we shouldn’t waste any time with letting you believe that you’re actually a pet! This sale is your last – I’m setting you free.”

Matthew’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t find the courage to speak, just staring at Gilbert, mind gone blank, mouth loosely hanging open. The room seemed too small and too large all at once, his chest growing tighter and tighter by the second. In fact, the poor boy was so shocked that he didn’t hear the worried calling of his apparent not-master, eyes closing as black swam into his vision, and everything disappeared.

 

* * *

 

 

“Well… I’ve had quite a few different reactions to hearing that, but passing out wasn’t one of them,” was the first thing Matthew heard when he opened his eyes. He was lying on a soft bed, silken sheets smooth between his fingers and his lithe form sinking into the mattress.

There was a faint smell of incense in the air, like lemons mixed with a sea breeze, pleasantly perfuming the room. Curiously, Matthew took a long sniff, his eyes flickering with mild fear.

“Uh, Birdie? You okay?” Gilbert was standing in front of Matthew, waving a hand back-and-forth in front of the boy’s face. “You passed out and everything, so I gave you a wash and put you in bed.” He pulled away and smirked slightly, placing his hands on his hips. “And, because I’m so awesome, I cooked dinner – some nice, Prussian sausages!”

Why was he-? Oh, yes. The events of the previous day suddenly came swarming back to Matthew in a flash of colour and shock. Apparently he was free, but that couldn’t be so – he needed an ID, and pets couldn’t access them because of the chips. Alongside that, his horns would be a dead giveaway as to what he was.

“I-I’ll go serve up, master,” Matthew managed to get out, his throat tight once more. He moved to race out of the room and froze, feeling the strange sensation of clothing on his skin.

It was definitely a soft, white cotton shirt, and loose blue trousers, probably intended for a fatter person than Matthew was. His feet were bare, but clean. In fact, his whole body was, and when Matthew ran his hands through his hair, he noticed that it felt conditioned, soft. Slowly, he tore his violet gaze from the clothes and managed to meet Gilbert’s gaze.

Gilbert sighed softly, before replying simply, “I have a maid who does that.”

“But, what am I supposed to do, master?” Matthew asked, staring at his not-master with complete confusion. He didn’t deserve something like this! He was supposed to be crawling on the floor, serving and cooking food, cleaning the house, and being a warm sleeve for his master’s cock.

Matthew was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice when Gilbert stepped over and placed a hand on his shoulder until it was there, and then he found himself nervously shying before moving closer with a ducked head.

“Call me Gilbert. I’ll show you around,” he smiled encouragingly, taking his hand off Matthew’s shoulder and gesturing to the large interior.

There seemed to be everything there: two spare bedrooms, each with a massive bed and small ensuite, a main bathroom with what could only be described as a swimming pool of a bathtub, a large kitchen, opening onto the living room - a sort of hole in the floor with seats embedded in it, and the largest TV Matthew had ever seen.

Everything was soft, comfy, and in moments Matthew had curled up onto the plush, white sofa, bringing his knees to his chest, before he realised how dirty he was and launched himself off again.

Gilbert simply laughed softly in response, shaking his head a little and gesturing to the sofa once more. “It’s alright; you can sit!”

Matthew couldn’t move. His gut felt full of ice. Suspicion had been creeping up on him for a while now, and it was finally starting to peak, tumbling over the edge and into the forefront of his mind.

“Why are you doing this?”

Why was he being… being treated like a human? He wasn’t, not anymore – not after the day they inserted the chip into his body, the day they implanted those antlers in his skull. Was it a trap? If he fell for it, was Matthew going to be beaten within every inch of his life? The thought terrified him, and he found himself submitting, body curling inwards slowly.

If Gilbert was surprised, he didn’t show it, simply pulling Matthew’s ‘pet papers’ out of his pocket. They were the only source of identification he had in the world – a few papers with the list of his owners, a brief description of what he looked like and what changes had been made to his appearance over the years, plus a small section about what he’d been trained to do.

Something told Matthew that Gilbert’s possession of them meant a very bad thing, indeed.

He was proved right when his not-master pulled out a lighter, switched it on, and turned it to the corner of the pages.

Matthew wanted to scream. He wanted to run, tear the burning pages out of Gilbert’s hands and save them. That was his only way of surviving. A pet without papers would be killed on the spot if the owner couldn’t be found! _He didn’t want to die_!

But no sound escaped Matthew’s mouth as he watched his papers crumple and blacken into nothing but charred flakes, a couple of corners left when the blaze became too great for the man to hold and blew it out.

Gilbert sighed softly, brushing his hands together and pausing to inspect the burns on his fingers with amazing scrutiny, folding each finger with the thumb and middle finger of his unburnt hand, the one holding the lighter. After deciding they didn’t need immediate medical attention, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an expensive, high class phone, obviously set to speed dial from how he simply pressed a couple buttons, pushed it to his ear, and stared at the dumbfounded creature, not even breaking his gaze as the person on the other end picked up.

“Ah! Franny! Ja, I’m good, how’s life treating you?”

The person on the other end of the line began talking, and Matthew could pick up the tinny sound of a female, melodramatically recounting the woes of her life.

With a brief chuckle, Gilbert nodded, and replied: “Ja, ja. Look, I’ve got a new one, and I need to arrange for him to get his chip removed… preferably as soon as possible.”

Another pause left Matthew in complete silence, staring at Gilbert with eyes practically bulging out of his head. Why was this happening to _him_? Surely Gilbert should’ve been spending money and resources on someone else, someone young, someone who hadn’t been through the horrors Matthew had.

But Gilbert was hanging up, turning to face Matthew with an expectant look accompanied by a smile. “So, do you trust me yet? I won’t hurt you; I’m here to make sure that you can return to society as a free person. You can ask me any questions you have.”

Was this it? As a child, Matthew had spent years wishing desperately for freedom, clinging to the notion that one day he’d be able to stand at his front door, say, “look, mother! I’m here! I’m the same child from before and I still love you, even if I don’t know what I did wrong!”

They’d beaten that wish for freedom out of him, alongside his dignity and pride. And yet, Gilbert stood here, offering Matthew what was quite possibly his last chance, handing back his humanity on a silver platter.

Matthew would be mad to pass that up.

So he opened his mouth and prepared to ask the first question, but what came out was not what he’d expected, nor been aware of. He really needed to knuckle down on his thought to mouth filter.

“Who is Lovino?”

Gilbert didn’t seem to have anticipated the question either, faltering in his open smile and pausing, considering the right answer. Eventually, he seemed to go for the safest one, “he’ll talk about himself if he wants to. Lovino’s had a rough life, so I wouldn’t push him if I were you...”

 

* * *

 

Alfred had finished his meeting and was flopped on the couch by the time the Italian returned home, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it into a random corner of the room. He paused, running his fingers through dark hair, before stepping back over to where his boyfriend rested.

Slowly, Lovino sat himself in Alfred’s lap and pushed downwards, causing a groan to escape the blond’s mouth.

“Loviii! Did you leave your shirt lying around again? You’re so messy!”

“Shut your face.” Lovino grumbled in response, laying his lean body over the American’s and kissing gently at his collarbones. “You know I still hate wearing them.”

Rather than risk dislodging Lovino through words, Alfred’s hands slowly moved upwards, resting lazily on the male’s shoulder blades, whilst his fingers began to run over the raised scars, mapping his body out once more.

“Did you see Gil’s new one?”

“Mmmm.”

Alfred couldn’t stop the pout that came over his lips, and one hand moved to tilt Lovino’s chin upwards, making sure the Italian could see it, before moving his hand back to its original position.

“He’s some kind of supernatural creature.” Lovino finally gave in with a sigh, pressing his weight just a little more on Alfred’s chest to force the American to focus more on his breathing rather than talking. “A literal walking corpse. I’m surprised the thing’s still alive. Gilbert’s determined to look after him, though.”

“Him?” Alfred writhed just a little, trying to dislodge the dead weight on his chest to breath a little, but Lovino only seemed to press harder.

“Every time I say that it’s a he, you always want to check if it’s your brother. Alfred, give up. Matthew probably died a few years ago, or he’s living with someone who won’t give him up… like an old lady or some shit like that.”  
  
Alfred opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t say a word as his lips were captured in a deep kiss, the Italian’s hips skillfully grinding downwards, leaving all thoughts of missing brothers behind in a tangled mess of legs, arms and torsos.


End file.
